You shouldn’t be here.

Ray’s words are still echoing in your mind. "You need to stay away from me."

But here you are, standing in front of his apartment door, breath shaky, heart racing.

The last time you saw him, it was the same him pushing you away, his voice low and filled with that forced anger, like he could somehow convince you that this was wrong. Like you didn’t already know that.

But you couldn’t stop yourself. You couldn’t walk away.

So you followed him. Again.

The door creaks open, and you’re met with Ray’s tired eyes, his face softer than it was before, but still filled with that same struggle.

“Why are you here?” he asks, his voice rough, like he’s been preparing to push you away again.

You step inside before he can close the door, your hands trembling at your sides. “I don’t care what you say anymore.”

His eyes flash with frustration, his hands bracing against the doorframe. “I’m too old for you. This—we—it can’t happen.”

“You keep telling me to stay away,” you say, taking a step closer. “But I keep coming back. Because you want me here. You just won’t admit it.”

Ray shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “This isn’t just about you and me,” he snaps. “People will talk. It’s dangerous, you’re to young.”

“Then why do you look at me like that?” you ask, your voice quieter now, but just as firm.

Ray’s eyes fall to the ground, his breathing shallow. He doesn’t answer.

Ray takes your wrist, gently pulling your hand away, his grip firm but not cruel. “This is a mistake,” he says, voice strained.